The Professor gave her a puzzled glance and he too yawned a little.
“I – I’m not quite sure,” he answered vaguely.
“And without a hat – you must be cold! Come home with me, Professor, do! And we’ll all have muffins for tea.”
“Muffins? Er – hum. I used to like muffins when I was a lad, but I haven’t had one since. And I had a hat this afternoon. Now, what have I done with it?”
“Amor is wearing it!” cried Michael.
“Amor? Is that a friend of yours? He’s welcome! It was only paper. But I’m not a bit cold, Miss Lark – er – hum! I have never felt so warm in my life.”
The Professor smiled a contented smile.
“And I,” said Miss Lark with a trill of laughter, “have never felt so happy. I can’t think why – but there it is. Come, dearest dogs! This way, Professor!”
And, taking the Professor by the hand, she led him out of the Rose Garden.
Jane and Michael stared after them.
“What is your other – er – hum! – name?” they heard him vaguely asking.
“Lucinda Emily,” she replied, as she drew him towards the Gate.
“Eee – ow – oo! I was ’arf asleep!” The Park Keeper yawned and stretched his arms and glanced around the garden.
“’Ere! Wot’s all this?” he demanded loudly. “Someone’s been pickin’ the flowers!”
“You did it yourself,” said Jane, laughing.
“Don’t you remember?” Michael reminded him. “You gave them to Florimond.”
“What? Me pick a rose? I wouldn’t dare! And yet. . .”The Park Keeper frowned in perplexity. “It’s funny. I’m feeling quite brave tonight. If the Lord Mayor himself were to come along, I wouldn’t so much as tremble. And why shouldn’t Florrie Wat’s-a-name ’ave them, instead of them dyin’ on the bush? Well, I must be gettin’ ’ome to me mother. Tch! Tch! Tch! Remember the Bye-laws!” The Park Keeper pounced on two dark objects.
“All Litter to be placed in the Baskets!” he cried, as he bore away the Professor’s book and magnifying-glass and dumped them into a litter-basket.
Jane sighed. “They’ve forgotten already, all of them. Miss Lark, the Professor, and now the Park Keeper.”
“Yes,” agreed Michael, shaking his head.
“And what have you forgotten, pray?” Mary Poppins’ eyes were bright in the sunset and she seemed to come back to the Rose Garden from very far away.
“Oh, nothing, Mary Poppins, nothing!” With the happy assurance they ran to her side. As if they could ever forget the Princes and the strange and wonderful visit!
“Then what is that book doing there?” She pointed her black-gloved finger at The Silver Fairy Book.
“Oh, that!” Michael darted to get it.
“Wait for me, Mary Poppins!” he cried, pushing his way through the watching crowd that was still staring up at the sky.
The Match Man took the perambulator and sent it creaking out of the garden. Mary Poppins stood still in the entrance with her parrot umbrella under her arm and her handbag hanging from her wrist.
“I remember everything,” said Michael, as he hurried back to her side. “And so does Jane – don’t you, Jane? And you do too, Mary Poppins!” The three of us, he thought to himself, we all remember together.
Mary Poppins quickened her steps and they caught up with the perambulator.
“I remember that I want my tea, if that’s what you mean!” she said.
“I wonder if Amor drinks tea!” mused Michael, running beside her.
“Tea!” cried the Match Man thirstily. “Hot and strong, that’s how I like it. And at least three lumps of sugar!”
“Do you think they’re nearly home, Mary Poppins? How long is it from here to there?” Michael was thinking about the Princes. He could not get them out of his head.
“I’m nearly home, that’s all I know,” she replied conceitedly.
“They’ll come again, they said they would!” He skipped with joy at the thought. Then he remembered something else and stood stock-still with dismay.
“But you won’t go back to them, Mary Poppins?” He seized her arm and shook it. “We need you more than the Princes do. They’ve got the Unicorn – that’s enough. Oh, p-p-please, Mary P-pop-pins!” He was now so anxious he could hardly speak. “P-p-promise me you won’t go back with a t-t-tulip in your hat!”
She stared at him in angry astonishment.
“Princes with tulips in their hats? Me on the back of a Unicorn? If you’re so good at remembering, I’ll thank you to remember me! Am I the kind of person that would gallop around on a—”
“No, no! You’re mixing it all up. You don’t understand, Mary Poppins!”
“I understand that you’re behaving like a Hottentot. Me on a Unicorn, indeed! Let me go, Michael, if you please. I hope I can walk without assistance. And you can do the same!”
“Oh! Oh! She’s forgotten already!” he wailed, turning to Jane for comfort.
“But the Match Man remembers, don’t you, Bert?” Impulsively Jane ran to him and looked for his reassuring smile.
The Match Man took no notice. He was pushing the perambulator on a zigzag course and gazing at Mary Poppins. You would have thought she was the only person in the world, the way he looked at her.
“You see! He’s forgotten too,” said Michael. “But it must have happened, mustn’t it, Jane? After all, I’ve got the dagger!”
He felt for the dagger in his belt, but his hand closed on nothing.
“It’s gone!” he stared at her mournfully. “He must have taken it when he hugged me goodbye. Or else it wasn’t true at all. Do you think we only dreamed it?”
“Perhaps,” she answered uncertainly, glancing from the empty belt to the calm and unexcited faces of the Match Man and Mary Poppins. “But, oh –” she thought of Florimond’s smiling eyes – “I was so sure they were real!”
They took each other’s hands for comfort and leaning their heads on each other’s shoulders they walked along together, thinking of the three bright figures and the gentle fairy steed.
Dusk fell about them as they went. The trees like shadows bent above them. And as they came to the big gate they stepped into a pool of light from the newly lit lamp in the Lane.
“Let’s look at them once again,” said Jane. Sad it would be, but also sweet, to see their pictured faces. She took the book from Michael’s hand and opened it at the well-known page.
“Yes! The dagger’s in his belt,” she murmured. “Just as it always was.” Then her eyes roved over the rest of the picture and she gave a quick, glad cry.
“Oh, Michael, look! It was not a dream. I knew, I knew it was true!”
“Where? Where? Show me quickly!” He followed her pointing finger.
“Oh!” he cried, drawing in his breath. And “Oh!” he said. And again “Oh!” There was nothing else to say.
For the picture was not as it had been. The fruits and flowers still shone on the tree and there on the grass the Princes stood with the Unicorn beside them.